Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.
Wish and learn to smooth away the surly wrinkles, to raise your lids frankly, and change the fiends to confident, innocent angels, suspecting and doubting nothing, and always seeing friends where they are not sure of foes.
We must be for ourselves in the long run; the mild and generous are only more justly selfish than the domineering.
Treachery and violence are spears pointed at both ends; they wound those who resort to them worse than their enemies.
Time brought resignation, and a melancholy sweeter than common joy.
The tyrant grinds down his slaves and they don’t turn against him; they crush those beneath them.
It was not the thorn bending to the honeysuckles, but the honeysuckles embracing the thorn.
If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn’t love as much in eighty years as I could in a day.
If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.
I wish I were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free.
I have not broken your heart—you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine.
Honest people don’t hide their deeds.
